


Meteor

by Astrobleme



Series: Meteor [1]
Category: Advanced Warfare-Fandom, Call of Duty (Video Games), Exo Zombies (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Language, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Medical Trauma, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Slow Build, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2020-11-22 12:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrobleme/pseuds/Astrobleme
Summary: Gideon has been a soldier for a long time. He fights the good fight. For ATLAS, for his brothers in arms, for Justice. Keep moving forward: one step, one bullet, one minute at a time. He's always believed in himself. Little does he know the collision course he's chosen. The day was starting off difficult, it was only getting worse from here.





	1. Charging

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, thanks for clicking on this fic :D
> 
> I'm going to try to follow Zombies" Canon as much as I can but can't promise I won't have fun either.
> 
> Enjoy!

Atlas Headquarters

New Baghdad: 0615 Hours 

The thud of a single pair of army boots resonated throughout the hallway. Gideon was trailing the aromas spilling from the cafeteria at a quick pace. The hallway was filled with the smell of bacon, hot sausages, and freshly baked muffins. But before anything else, there was only one goal on his mind: coffee. 

It was early in the morning but he had already been up for several hours. Which was starting to give him a headache. Atlas headquarters had received a medium level alert from its’ local prison. A possible security breach unrelated to his regular duties as Captain. From what Gideon could tell from the plans; the alert was triggered by a technical difficulty with their communication system. A recent software update had probably been too heavy for the old hardware to run leading it to crash.

Internal security could handle it, technically.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have skipped out on sleep over this. Except, it had been four weeks since his team’s last tour and they were restless. So as the longest operating Captain at Atlas; he pulled some strings with his buddies in management. Besides, Irons wouldn’t mind them tagging along as an escort to the repair team. He wouldn’t even have to know.

They would carry out an inspection of the prison while they were at it. Now, Joker would finally have a reason to stop badgering him about their next deployment. Mitchell could stop staring out of windows, looking all melancholy-like. And he would finally be working instead of letting his brain rot of boredom. He wouldn’t lie, it wasn’t a glamorous mission. But enough to keep his team occupied. 

He let out a small huff as he walked.  _ Seriously need that coffee _ , he thought.

Gideon pushed the cafeteria door wide open, crossed the rows of empty tables, making a beeline for the counter and reached the coffee machine. He grabbed a clean mug and after the push of a few buttons, glorious dark liquid started to pour out. He waited as the steam dissipated into the air. It reminded him of yesterday’s training...

Smoke rose from the tip of Mitchell’s machine gun after he unloaded his last mag into the holographic enemies. Mitchell exhaled loudly, finally letting himself breathe, relieved to see he surpassed his previous high score. He lowered his gun but Gideon could notice his hand trembling. Mitchell was uneasy, despite his attempts to hide it. The adrenaline in his veins pumping hard, his pupils wide, and his breath hot. Mitchell wanted more orders, wanted to move, he wanted to prove he belonged. For two years, Gideon had been watching over this Private. Mitchell couldn’t be considered a meer rookie by any account. However, the prosthetic arm continued to lower his confidence. 

Normally, Gideon wouldn’t comment. Mitchell was a fantastic soldier, robot arm or not; how couldn’t he see that? Besides, why would he interfere with Mitchell’s mental process? Especially when it was leading to him becoming stronger. So what if he had issues to work through? Everyone did. And it wasn’t like he was going to pretend to be some therapist. 

This time however, Gideon walked towards Mitchell. He didn’t know what invisible force pulled him close. Was it the ever growing soft spot Gideon had for his Private? Was it because Mitchell never stopped impressing him with his growth? Maybe he wanted Mitchell to keep his fighting spirit? Gideon didn’t know. But it felt like ... something deeper. When Gideon was up close he reached up and put a hand on Mitchell’s muscular shoulder. 

“I like what I see. Your aim’s a lot better,” Mitchell’s eyebrows raised in surprise but Gideon continued “Training is paying off, now head to the showers.” He stopped himself before he could add a small ‘you deserve it’. Something like that would go straight to Mitchell’s head. 

Now Gideon was standing there. Way to close to Mitchell. Staring straight into his surprised face and his hand still holding onto his Private’s shoulder. Mitchell’s big blue eyes staring right back. Their faces close enough for Gideon to notice how Mitchell’s soft hair clung to his neck. He could smell his cologne mixed in with his sweat. 

Gideon’s hand felt like it was on fire, he quickly lifted it up and then slapped it back down onto his Private’s shoulder. Awkwardly patting Mitchell before turning away.  _ What the fuck was that!?! _ He fake coughed and pretended to fix his beenie to avoid Mitchell’s gaze. 

“Thank you, Captain,” whispered softly Mitchell. His cheeks felt like they were on fire and he was suddenly very very glad that Gideon wasn’t looking in his direction at the moment. “I’ll be off then.” 

“Copy that,” replied Gideon but he was only thinking about his heart thumping in his chest.

The cafeteria door creaked loudly, startling the captain out of his daze. He stood up straight, snatched his mug off the counter, and turned towards his seat. A couple of soldiers walked in and headed towards the breakfast sausages, chatting nonchalantly. Gideon sat down and started rubbing the bridge of his nose; his headache just got worse. He hoped no one noticed him being lost in thought. Daydreaming about Mitchell no less. 

_ This day is going to be a lot fucking harder than I thought. _ Gideon took a sip from his cup and swore again. The coffee was already room temperature. 


	2. Magnetized

Atlas Cafeteria

New Baghdad: 0628 hours

Gideon was only half way finished his cup of coffee, when none other than Mitchell entered the cafeteria. The men immediately made eye contact and Mitchell sent his Captain a small wave before turning his attention to the food. Gideon followed him with his eyes. Something mesmerizing about the way his long locks bounced in rhythm with his steps. The kind smile that came out naturally when speaking with the kitchen staff. The way he touched his lips when deciding with beverage he wanted. Finally, Gideon turned his gaze back to the table, a tightness had developed in his chest.

_ What am I doing? Mitchell definitely noticed me staring. What if he starts asking questions?!  _ He's had too much down time Gideon decided. Starting to overthink things to keep his brain occupied.  _ It's not like I haven't thought these things before. _

He remembered how two years ago when Mitchell first joined Atlas, he gave his doctors the brightest smile the first time the calibration of his grip was strong enough to hold a gun. Or no matter how shy he seemed at first, during simulations his eyes were alight with focus. A good soldier, Mitchell pushed himself physically and followed orders. A true asset on Gideon’s team.  _ Nothing has changed between us, I just need to stop acting weird. I am just his Captain and Mitchell is just my Private.  _ Despite his best rationalizing, the tightness in Gideon’s chest wouldn’t go away. 

At the sound of Mitchell sliding his tray of food onto the table, Gideon raised his head once more. 

“Good morning Captain,” said Mitchel as he sat down in front of him. “Everything okay?”

Gideon nodded affirmatively and chugged the rest of his coffee, trying to keep his expression neutral. Mitchell raised an eyebrow.

“Right,” he extended a small plate towards Gideon. “Anyways, I brought you some toast and jam. Even you need more than coffee to survive.”

Gideon thanked him as he took a large bite. “By the way,” he mumbled. “We have a new assignment this morning.”

Mitchell’s eyes lit up with excitement. He leaned in closer. Right over his large plate of food. Now forgotten. All attention on Gideon’s next words. Clear blue eyes fixed to his. Gideon felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he looked into his Private’s expectant face. Gideon bit his tongue. Half formed words caught at the back of his throat. He felt that invisible pull again but stopped himself. 

“It’s a simple mission. Don’t get your hopes up,” he said slowly.

_ Why did that last part feel like it was meant for me? _

“We’re escorting some tech nerds to a nearby prison. Time to update the communication systems. But at least we get to stretch our legs.”

Gideon watched Mitchell’s face fall in disappointment.  _ Say something, you idiot!  _ His own heart sank. His mind fumbled in unknown terrain. He couldn’t come up with the words and now he missed his chance. Gideon felt like he neared a bridge to cross only to race away in the opposite direction. Somehow, he wished he stayed on course. 

Gideon continued the only way he knew how: “Make sure you’re prepared to leave in 3 hours. The repair team should be here by then. I’ll explain the rest on the way.”

“Copy that,” Mitchell nodded solemnly. 

Gideon finished the rest of his toast, while Mitchell scooped a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. The pair ate in silence. Only the sound of scraping utensils filled the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another chapter of Gideon discovering FEeliNGSss?!?? For MItchELL?!?


	3. Electrons

Atlas Headquarters Gym

New Baghdad: 0900 hours

Grunting and heavy breathing filled the room. Sweat dripped down onto the mats laid out on the floor. Two men caught in an all out war. Ilona as the arbiter stood in front of them, arms crossed. If it wasn’t for the 50$ on the line she wouldn’t waste her time. For this pull-up match, the outcome was obvious. But for Mitchell and Joker, pride was on the line. 

“42”

“43”

“Hey, all the way up or it doesn’t count Joker, 43,” warned Ilona. 

“Damn it,” gasped Joker. “So... harsh.”

“44"

"You a… asked for the rematch Joker,” puffed Mitchell. 

“Ha! Give up... while you... can ‘cause this time I’ll win!” 

Mitchell tightened his grip on the pull-up bar. His palms were stinging and he could feel the blisters growing. He drew in a large breath and flexed his back muscles to lift himself up. His biceps stung from the effort but he reached the top of the bar once again.  _ Like Hell I’m giving up. _

“45… 46… 47”

“... Arhh!!” Yelled Joker, straining his whole body and face trying to complete one last pull-up. “Fuck!” He let himself fall onto the mats. Joker laid there on his back, his arms spread out on either side, taking deep breaths. Defeated. 

“That’s 50$,” smiled Ilona, kneeling down next to him. Her arm shot out and punched him in the shoulder. “I take cash or credit.” 

“Ow! Come on! Friendly fire, friendly fire!” Joker shielded his shoulder defensively. 

Mitchell smiled from above his two teammates.  _ Alright, just two more.  _ He didn’t mind the cramping in his muscles now that he won. He jumped to the ground next to Joker, shaking his arms to get some blood back to the extremities. Then he pulled his t-shirt over his head and started wiping the sweat around his forehead and neck. The cool air from the air conditioning felt good on his exposed torso. “Better not forget about me Joker,” he teased. 

“Come on man, doesn’t my pain count?” 

“Not a chance, a deal is a deal.”

Joker conceded with a “Umpf” before turning to his stomach and pushing himself onto his feet. 

Ilona tossed each man a water bottle. “I’m going on ahead to suit up. My team should be ready by now,” she said before heading towards the door.

“Hey wait up! I’ll go too,” called Joker. But was ignored by Ilona who continued on walking. 

“Please give a brother a chance next time,”Joker told Mitchell in a hushed tone.

Mitchell only rolled his eyes and took another gulp of water while Joker jogged away to catch up to Ilona. His senior teammate had been chasing after Ilona’s attention since the earliest day Mitchell could remember. _Joker should wake up to the obvious._ _Knowing her, if she hasn’t outright told him to fuck off yet she definitely wants him around. _Mitchell held back the chuckle that threatened to expose him. It would mean trouble if they noticed. 

“Oh, hey boss!” 

Right as Joker reached the gym door, it opened to reveal Gideon on the other side. Mitchell sucked in a quick breath. Standing tall and freshly shaven with just the right amount of stubble poking through, the Captain walked into the room. The bags under Gideon’s eyes were gone compared to this morning.  _ Good, he must of had a nap after breakfast.  _

“There you all are,” grunted Gideon. “We’re leaving in 30 let’s get moving.”

“Sound good boss!” Beamed Joker. “Let’s get the hell out of this joint.”

Ilona simply nodded in Gideon’s direction. She left to meet up with her own squad. Humming as she went along.

Gideon’s eyes fell upon Mitchell. _ Ah. _ Mitchell blinked two-three times, frozen in place. He could of sworn Gideon had just checked him out.  _ Who am I kidding?  _ It wouldn’t have been the first time Gideon stared at him. It was happening more and more often.  _ Must be my imagination or I’ve been doing something wrong lately. _

An unexpected knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Mitchell had dated men and women in the past. He wasn’t ashamed in anyway. But relationships were a thing from the time before Will’s death. It would be wrong for him to even hope that his Captain might see something in him now. Feeling slightly self-conscious about being bare chested, Mitchell put his t-shirt back on.

It wasn’t as if they haven’t been around each other in various states of undress before. In the changing room for example. Mitchell had noticed how while he was a couple inches taller, Gideon was slightly leaner and had a smaller waist than his. A couple of beauty marks speckled his back as well. Mitchell was used to watching his Captain’s back during missions. Always following close. But there was something different about seeing it with no exo or uniform covering it. The way Gideon’s well defined muscles shifted as he moved. Or the flex of his triceps when he raised his arms. 

Was he sweating all of the sudden?

What Mitchell didn’t realize was that Gideon had one hundred percent let his eyes wander. Over Mitchell’s exposed chest. And his powerful biceps. And then down the line of sculpted abs. Barely stopping himself as he reached the buckle of Mitchell’s pants. 

“Y-you coming?” faltered Gideon, shifting his beanie on his head. 

Mitchell finally got his feet moving towards the door. “Yup, coming.”

“If you say you're too tired for the mission, too bad,” snarked Gideon, taking back control of his emotions. “No excuses for a lazy performance in the field.” 

“Not a problem, I’m in top shape.” Mitchell puffed his chest slightly to prove his point. 

“If I get shot in the back I know who to blame.” Gideon pointed a finger under Mitchell’s chin with a grin. 

“Won’t let that happen,” smiled Mitchell, mock saluting his captain as they walked out of the gym together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gang is all together <3  
Gidchell is such a good looking pair like goddamn I never had a chance


	4. Juncture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of an info dump/world building chapter. Tried to make it as interesting as possible.  
As an aside, I'm not in the military so if the communication sounds like cheap TV I'm so sorry. Although, I do have my fun and will occasionally use my paramedic radio codes instead. (Don't let Gideon get into healthcare btw. The way he kicks the unconscious technologist they rescue from the river omfg boi why?!!)

3500 ft of altitude 

Iraqui desert: 0940 hours

Mitchell had changed into clean slacks and outfitted with the Specialist Exo. Now he was speeding through the air in an Atlas Warbird. There were three Warbirds sent on the mission in total. One for Ilona and her team and the other carrying the computer technicians. They kept a close flight path and the trip to the prison would only take thirty minutes. 

Mitchell fidgeted with the grappling attachment connected to his Exo, making sure it was well fixed. Mitchell always doubled checked his equipment. If for some reason they did end up needing it, and then it malfunctioned, risking the mission and his teammates. Mitchell wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Satisfied that it would do the trick, he turned his attention to his teammates. 

Gideon sat across from him. As per usual, he had on an Assault type Exo. Confirming their maneuvers with Prophet over the radio; his gruff voiced resonating above the sound of the Warbird’s engines. Clear and steady as always, despite the turbulence. A voice that reassured through the chaos of missions. That he trusted deeply... During missions, of course. 

Sitting to the right of Gideon was a newer Atlas member; Grayson. He was just slightly older than Gideon, and approaching his 36th birthday. Grayson joined Atlas 10 months ago after serving for the United-States military as an explosive ordnance disposal officer. But with the US government taking a smaller role on the world stage, he came looking for more work. A steady operative, he always kept his cool, and was extremely knowledgeable. At the moment, Grayson was on his tablet looking over plans of the prison site.

“We’ll have to be careful if we’re using the grenades down there,” he said while rubbing his chin. “Those old walls weren’t built with reinforcements, so there’s the risk of collapse if the wrong ones are hit.” 

The rest of the team nodded in acknowledgement. Mitchell appreciated the info. However, he doubted it would be an issue for this mission. Grayson was sometimes extra precautious, mostly because he lacked experience in the heat of battle. His instincts were slower when it came time to run and gun. Still he trusted Grayson. One time, Mitchell learned more about the chemistry and mechanics of their grenades in one conversation with Grayson, than in a three hours of briefings. Mitchell could tell that he cared about getting jobs done right.

Joker sat next to Mitchell, outfitted with a Specialist Exo as well. He stretched his arms high in the air, loosening up his joints before the mission. 

“My arms are definitely going to be sore in the morning,” he laughed.

Joker was the soldier that Mitchell had the most experience working with. Joker had slugged along the daily Sim runs with him in the early days. He kept his complaints about dealing with rookies to a minimum and helped mold Mitchell into an acceptable Atlas employee. Training never felt too stressful with Joker. Unlike a lot of the mercenaries vying to join Atlas. No matter the high score or the mission to complete, Joker would always give out free advice. His lighthearted attitude off the field was one of the things that reminded Mitchell to cheer up after the loss of Will. Despite his boastful exterior, his intelligence and down to earth personality was the reason Gideon trusted him as his first Lieutenant. 

“Alright listen up,” started Gideon as a holographic map of the prison lit up in between the seats. “We’re arriving on the X in about four mikes. We’ll set down on the main helicopter pad with the repair team.” 

Gideon pointed to the Eastside administrative building. It was four stories tall. Composed of offices at the higher levels and below was the inmates’ processing areas. There was a garage and a road access towards New Baghdad. 

“Ilona is leading Alpha team. They'll be setting down to the West and starting the inspection there. We’ll converge in the middle and link up.” 

The Westside had a small medical bay which was connected to the building housing the prison cells. Both sides of the prison were separated by a large fenced-off courtyard; that was the recreation area for the prisoners. A tall guard-tower stood in the center, connecting the East and West sides with skybridges that could only be used by personal. The entire facility was surrounded by miles and miles of empty desert, making the thought of escape pretty hopeless. 

“Prophet, teams are on final approach,” relayed Gideon on the radio.

“Copied, we are tracking your progress.” 

Gideon turned to his team and grinned, “Friendly faces boys, let’s try not to scare the civies.” 

The Captain stood up to push the button that opened the Warbird’s lateral door. As it opened up to let the crew get an aerial view of the edifice, Mitchell covered his eyes from the blinding rays of sunlight shining in.  _ We’re stationed in the desert we should really be issued sunglasses.  _

Just as he blinked; darkness fell. Explosions rocked the Warbird from side to side. An awful sound of the metal hull warping echoed. The Warbird pitched downwards. Mitchell's stomach heaved. Electric shocks sent his hairs standing. Alarms blared. Their radios screeched with feedback. The Warbird rocked back up. Mitchell's seat belt tightened against his chest. Gideon was thrown sideways and his shoulder smacked the side hull. 

“Fuck me!” he spat as he regained his footing next to Grayson. Their ride finally stabilizing in the air. 

“Shit, look!” Joker pointed outside. 

What was just before sun and blue skies, was now pitch black. The entire top floor of the administrative building was in flames. Explosions shattering the glass into dust. Smoke rose in plumes. Fencing destroyed all around. Worst of all, Mitchell couldn't spot any movement on the ground.

"A holographic canopy? That's not anywhere in the plans." Spoke Grayson.

Mitchell could barely believe it. Their Warbird had just crashed through a barrier that had been enveloping the entire prison. One that wasn’t supposed to exist.  _ Why was this hidden? _

"Prophet, maximum alert. Transmitting live feed of our visual. I need an immediate 10-40 of all available resources. Medivac as soon as possible," reported Gideon. 

"Copy, we are dispatching air support and medical teams. Contact us as soon as you find an appropriate triage area." 

"Roger," Gideon switched to their private channels. "Warbird Charlie evacuate and return to base. Warbird Alpha what's your status?"

"Shaken but still functional. Should we continue our flight plan?" Asked Ilona.

"Positive, survey the West side and land if it's safe. Prophet will want an immediate SitRep." 

"Copy that." 

Just like that the teams were re-focused. Search and rescue was their first priority. Mitchell made a mental note of which pouches held his tourniquets and bandages. He slowed his breathing, composing himself. Mitchell detached himself from the horror. Welcoming the calm and clarity of working a mission. To have purpose. His body was to function without hesitation. To support his team. He unclipped his seat belt and took position near the door. Nodding at Gideon. He was ready for orders. The Warbird descended slowly, hovering above the landing zone. 

_ Time to see what is waiting for us.  _


	5. Impact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, um sorry for the wait on this one. I had a lot trouble writing it for some reason. It is a longer chapter, so hopefully you guys can forgive me. This is a slow burn but I'm getting the ball rolling.

Atlas Prison 

Iraqui desert: 1009 hours

Boots hit the ground. The team moved across the landing pad in a tight knit pack. The heat was smothering. Ash flew everywhere and glued itself to Gideon’s damp skin. He wiped his mouth, a streak of grey covered the back of his hand. Barely managing to stifle a cough, Gideon knew that he had to get his team inside as soon as possible. 

"Mitchell, scan the door," he ordered.

Mitchell placed the scanner against the metal door. They waited a couple of seconds for the evaluation. The timer in Gideon’s mind counting down the seconds hastily. 

"No good, fire down the hall,” Mitchell read out-loud. “If we opened this up, the flames would erupt even more. The whole 4th floor is lost." 

"Buggers. New plan: we're going through the 3rd floor. Get your grappling hooks ready." Gideon pointed to the edge of the roof.

Bits of asphalt flicked up as their stakes dug into the roof. They hooked their carabiners to their belts with a snap, and readied their cables. Joker pulled his rope taunt. With a wink, he pushed off the edge and swung to the windows below. His feet landing on the glass. He stood parallel to the ground.

"Woo!" He called up with a smile. "Still clear down here!"

Grayson descended next to Joker. They started slicing a large rectangular opening into the glass. Sparks flying from their portable saws. Gideon gave Mitchell the green light and he started repelling down. 

Gideon surveyed the view once more. This wasn't what he expected from the security report. Was this the aftermath of a riot? A terrorist attack on Atlas?  _ What did I get my team into?  _

Thick, black, smoke continued to rise out of the siding below them. Choking the air around. Flames beginning to escape, stretching towards the sky. Their red light illuminating Mitchell below. Gideon was sweating. Time to go.

Just as Gideon was stepping off, he heard a loud crack. The window above Mitchell was splitting apart. The Private looked up in concern. A second crack rang out. The glass was going to burst.

Gideon launched down without hesitation. Sweeping Mitchell up with one arm. Grabbing a fistful of his uniform. Holding tight. The window shattering above. Fire blasting into the sky. Just as Gideon lead them through the opening, flames licked the top of his head. Shards rained down. 

Mitchel fell from Gideon's grip as he tumbled onto the office floor. His Exo clanging as it scraped to a halt. Gideon rolled next to him. Laying flat with his back on the ground. Inside. Safe. He rested the back of his head on the ceramic tiles. 

"That was a close one," he breathed.

_ Mitchell could have been… Stop. _ Gideon refused to let his mind wander further, despite the deep pit of fear that opened in his gut. He did his job. He protected his team. He could only afford to move forward, not ponder over devastating what-ifs. 

Mitchell shifted onto his knees, leaning over Gideon. He grabbed some gauze from his vest. Pushing it to Gideon's left cheek. It stung.  _ Oh, I'm cut.  _ Gideon's heart flipped in his chest at the touch. The carefulness of the action. Oh how part of him he wanted to savor that feeling. The other part to squash it before it grew any further.

The small laceration was leaking blood into the bandage. A shard of glass must of hit him. The bandage soaking up blood, grime, and ash. Whisking it away. Mitchell's fingertips were ice to his skin. He was looking a little pale, not injured though. His eyes focused on his task.

Gideon smirked up at his needlessly worried Private. Ignoring the tiny tinge of resistance from his cheek. 

"Pssh had worse. What's this floor look like?" He jumped to his feet. He extended his hand to Mitchell, whom was still kneeling. Mitchell shook his head and got up without taking it.

He mumbled under his breath: "Sorry. Won't happen again." 

“Yeah, can’t have me rescuing your sorry behind all the time.” 

Mitchell stayed silent.  _ Fuck, Goddammit Gideon. _ What was intended as a joke, had come out a lot meaner than expected. He hoped that Mitchell wouldn’t take his comment seriously. Of course he would do it all over again. It was only normal. He was responsible for his team and their safety came above all. What wouldn’t he do to protect Mitchell’s life? 

But none of those words left Gideon’s mouth, instead he looked around the room. Joker was standing not far to his side. Grayson was covering the door of the office. The overhead sprinklers had done their job. The furniture was soaked and the cooler air felt nice. Though now only droplets fell; their water supply had run out.

"Watch that fire Mitchell. Don't think we could recognise you with ya hair burned off," teased Joker with a smile. 

"Oh shut up. You're just jealous that I know how to use shampoo," replied Mitchell just as snarkily. There was the Mitchell Gideon knew; not one to wallow in his own pity.  _ Wish I was the one that could get him to smile though. _

Gideon clenched his jaw. He couldn't let himself be distracted, not with how unsettling their situation was. No calls for help rang out. No screams. No security guards ensuring that the employees followed the evacuation plan. This wasn’t at all like the Atlas he knew. No professionalism, no action.  _ Where was Iron’s trademark discipline? _

"Grayson, the door," he said.  _ No point wondering more.  _ “Let’s get a move on. We got to help our own.”

Grayson pushed the door open. The Captain moved into the aisle, his gun at the ready. This new section was larger. It's open design meant that rows of work desks spanned the length of this floor. The artificial night made it impossible to see the far ends of the room.  _ Fuck. We're under equipped. We need night vision. _ The dancing shadows, caused by the fires outside, blurred the shapes of the furniture. Their lines of sight further blocked by partitions boarding each desk.

“Heads on a swivel, there’s lots of blind spots,” he said.

Gideon quickly scanned the room from left to right. With the snap of his wrist, he pointed towards his right. On cue, Joker took Grayson to investigate that side of the room. They immersed themselves into the darkness until only the beams from their flashlights marked their position. 

Gideon sensed Mitchell get into position behind him. Mitchell was as silent as the room. His usual self during mission. Only a soft exhale gave away his presence. Gideon could pick up on that sound anywhere. He had to. Luckily, he embraced his Private's operating quirks early on. Many years ago, it had annoyed him. Communication was key for a team. There was no time for guessing what another was seeing on the battlefield. Relaying information quickly and clearly was primordial in his books. However, Mitchell proved him wrong. Like a dancer, Mitchell could tell a story through his body movements. A stronger step in one direction, a quick turn of his head, the tensing of shoulders. Gideon knew he had picked up on a point of interest. What really caught the Captain off guard during training though, was Mitchell’s battle intuition. As if by magic, Mitchell was always exactly where Gideon wanted him to be. Would know to sweep an adjacent pathway for enemies before the orders left his mouth. To veer left or right like he was Gideon’s shadow. Mitchell was easy to fit into his plans. A natural extension; point and he would shoot. Would be dangerous on the wrong side.  _ Maybe that’s why I like having Mitchell close? He’s the perfect battle partner. _

“This way Mitchell. Stay beside me,” he said.

Mitchell hummed softly in agreement. The reassuring sound, vibrating so close to his ear, made his heart flip all over again. But Gideon pushed the feeling away as hard as he could.

Together, they moved across the multiple empty work stations. Some chairs were toppled onto the ground. Papers scattered aimlessly. The large room remained silent, except for the occasional splashes caused by his team stepping in shallow puddles. They searched under desks, one after another for survivors. Always coming up empty. The hairs on Gideon's neck were standing straight despite it. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Invisible eyes in the dark tracking their every move. 

It wasn’t long before he and Mitchell reached the end of the room. There was a rather large desk pushed against the exit door. The metal door was indented, as if someone had tried to punch their way in. Bloody handprints splattered the makeshift barricade. The first sign of life from the prison. Or rather, of the struggle for it. 

“What a mess,” uttered the Captain. “We must be getting close. Prepare yourself for anything.” 

A few steps away, lounging on the other side of the office space, was another closed workroom. Judging by its size it was the boss' bureau. Gold lettering marked the door, spelling the name Khan. Gideon opened it.

Wind blew against the two soldiers from an open window. The draft carrying the scent of blood and smoke from the outside. Streams of orange light illuminated the walls through the blinds. This expensive office looking more like the inside of a prison cell. An empty lounge chair in the corner. A large cupboard stood against the wall, shelves holding file folders and a glass award for strong quarterly performance. A large computer sat upon Khan’s desk and the fancy padded office chair pushed to the side. Gideon and Mitchell checked under the desk and around every corner but still there was no one. 

“Clear,” resigned Gideon, his shoulders dropping in disappointment. 

They turned back to the main hall. As they exited, Joker and Grayson jogged up to them. No civilians in tow. For once, Joker bore a solemn look on his face. 

“Our half was empty. Looks like pretty much the same for you too huh.” 

"There doesn't seem to be a soul around," added Grayson.

Joker nodded his head. "I don't like this Boss. Something's up."

"Copy. I can’t believe this flew under Atlas’ radar,” agreed Gideon. “I'll check on how our back-up is doing.” 

Gideon tried to click on his Exo’s monitor to update Prophet on their situation. Unexpectedly however, video call was offline. The Captain grimaced slightly at the equipment failure. Instead he raised his hand to his chest, right under his chin and pressed the on button of his radio. Waiting for the tone to play so he could start speaking. Only it didn’t ring. He tried again. No better.  _ Fuck, we really needed this on top of everything.  _

He turned to Joker. “Try your radio.” 

Joker did what he was told but it was dead as well. Gideon looked at the face of his team, each filled with a mix of worry and waiting on Gideon for an explanation. Only, he didn’t have one. He growled in frustration, switching to the closed frequency.  _ Hopefully Ilona is having better luck.  _ Gideon swore when all he got was silence. They weren’t separated by a long distance. There was no reason for them to be cut off. Thankfully, their Exo’s were equipped with GPS. And Gideon could track the small red dots that marked Ilona and her team currently at the West side of the prison. 

“Okay,” huffed Gideon, borderline exasperated. “We’re heading back to our Warbird to get communications back up and running.”

“Should we regroup with Alpha?” Spoke Joker with a hint of worry. 

Gideon was about to agree, when he noticed Mitchell turn abruptly towards the blood stained door. Tracing the marks silently with his eyes. Gideon saw how his lips were pressed into a tight straight line. Slowly he tilted his head. Gideon shifted his gaze as well. Mitchell pointed to the right of the wall.

“There! Handmarks: it’s a trail.”

Just as his Private said; pale streaks of blood lead towards the bureau. It looked as if whomever was hurt, had leaned against the wall for support.  _ Weird if they were so badly injured, they should have collapsed in the office. And we would have found them. _

Gideon faced his Private. The look in his eyes told him that Mitchell had reached the same conclusion. He turned to his team.

“Change of plan. Search this room for clues. Someone was here and couldn’t have gotten far. We’re getting to the bottom of this,” he commanded. 

All four flashlights traced the room. They started opening the cupboard doors and flipping through papers. Mitchell moved to the desktop computer. Hitting a few keys to turn it on. He opened the system manager program and scrolled a little. His brows furrowed, looking puzzled. Suddenly, his eyes widened in interest. He clicked on a video file and waved for the team to come closer.

“Look. This was recorded yesterday,” he exclaimed. “But, it's the only file that has been touched in the last week. Besides this, the computer hasn’t been used at all.”

“Strange,” Gideon confirmed. “This Khan guy isn’t doing a whole lot of work for a boss.”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get the popcorn and watch the video!” Said Joker. Grayson got into position behind him.

They all stared at the monitor as the video loaded. Revealing the worn, bloodied face of a middle-aged man. He was wearing a red sweater carrying the Atlas logo on his chest, as well as, a nametag: indeed this was Khan. The video quality was appalling, the camera glitching in and out of focus and the audio cutting at times. The man clutched at his ribs and coughed as he spoke. Rapid chest rises as he tried to breathe, the veins of his neck swollen. Telltale signs of a tension pneumothorax, noted Gideon. The man didn’t have long to live.

**“Fuck okay I don’t know if anyone will find this… God it’s day 5, maybe 6? I don’t know anymore. We’re trapped in this shitty ass prison. And this was supposed to be a promotion! Hahahaha-fuck! Fighting day after day. How many fucking times are they going to experiment on us? I’m getting a lawyer the second I’m free!” ** Khan banged his fist against the desk. He paused a moment, a wheezing sound came out with every breath. He rubbed his hands over his face. ** “I succeeded on making it here but Decker, Lilith... I just- I’m recording this for insurance. Maybe next time it will jolt some memories? Lilith thinks we need to go deeper, to sub-level six. Fuck! That’s not even supposed to exist. How are we gonna get through the courtyard without getting bitten, huh? Fucking insanity!” ** He shouted as the colour drained from his face. “ **I don’t want them to take me again. No more tests. No more… I fucking hate the Atlas corporation.” ** Khan collapsed to the floor.

The video ended there. Gideon felt the world sway beneath him. His knees grew weak. It took a lot to give the Captain tunnel vision. Years of battles and stress had hardened him. But now, like a damn rookie, the edges of his vision darkened and blurred. His movements felt sluggish, like he was caught in slow-motion. The world tipping and swaying. Gideon the unwilling passenger, caught without a railing to hold onto.  _ What was this guy saying? Experiments? No, Atlas could never. I would have known!  _ He felt his stomach churn. His team stood around the screen frozen in place. Suddenly anger bubbled inside him. Gideon’s mind raged in defiance. 

“Fuck whatever that was! Fake, all of it!” He shouted at the computer. “Some twisted fuck’s idea of a prank.” 

_ Irons’s work is protecting the world. Atlas is my whole life, it can’t be evil...We can’t be serving people who do this... _

Just as Gideon was fighting for control. Desperate for another explanation.

** _Beep._ **

** _Beep._ **

** _Beep. _ **

Deep sounds resonated throughout the complex. Taking the team’s attention away from the video. A countdown had begun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh yeah cliff hanger, maybe you guys won't forgive me after all :P


	6. Tango

Atlas Prison: East Side

Iraqi Desert:1032 hours 

Bravo Team

Snapped back to the present, the team rushed to the windows. Gideon pushed his doubts about the crazy video to the back of his mind and stared at the ground below. He spotted movement. It was hard to make out the details from high up but the dark shapes were definitely human.  _ People finally! _ One walked slowly out of the garage, limping. Another followed closely behind. Only this one was dragging himself across the pavement, his legs chopped off below the knees. Grayson made a gagging sound. Mitchell’s prosthetic arm twitched. However, Gideon felt a wave of confidence pass through him. He knew it was wrong to feel that way, but the relief at not having to question reality was too strong. A clear path was set before them.  _ This, this I can deal with. _

“Get moving! There’s people who need us down there,” he directed his team out of the room. 

Atlas Prison: East Side

Iraqi Desert:1037 hours 

Bravo Team

Joker looked over his shoulder, back at the burning building they were running from. From the dark stairwell they had descended, to the silent locker rooms, to the freshly painted garage, no one else had appeared. Joker tried to clear his throat, but it was too dry. He looked to the sky but their Warbird was no longer on the roof. No doubt unable to stay put with all the smoke.  _ So, how do we get out of here?  _ He trusted Gideon’s skill at thinking on the fly. But even he couldn’t make them grow wings. 

Sprinting to the head of the pack, he tapped Gideon's shoulder to get his attention:

“Boss, you think maybe we should focus on getting communications back up?”

“We need to help those people first,” he replied without turning to look at him.

Joker took a step back, there was no arguing with his Captain like this. He held back a sarcastic comment. Stress was starting to build, but Joker understood that the job had to be done. The team halted and stood in the shadow of a broken down prison bus.  _ Where are they though? _ He scanned the lot in front of them but it was empty.  _ “How far could two people bleeding out fucking go?”  _

A shriek pierced the air. The team sprang back. From under the bus, a hand was reaching up towards them. It slammed to the ground. Dug its black nails into asphalt, and pulled the rest of its head and shoulders out. Grey skin covered the entirety of the body. It twitched like a bug. Gleaming yellow eyes locked onto them. Smelling of rot and blood. Black ooze dripped out of its mouth. It shrieked again. Joker felt his throat tighten in fear. Iced to his core. His mind screamed one thing:  _ That’s a goddamn fucking zombie! _

The zombie dragged itself out from the bus. Squirming as it moved towards Mitchell. Slowed due to half its legs missing.  _ Thank God it can’t stand _ , thought Joker as he flicked the safety off his gun. Grayson was shuffling his feet. He was ready to bolt. Joker struggled to inhale as he raised his rifle. He aimed for the middle of its skull. 

Then Mitchell took a step towards it. Fixated on the torn legs, where black blood squirted onto the ground. Joker pulled his eyes away from the sight of his gun. Shouted at him to move. Looking at Mitchell in horror; he recognized the way his eyes were glazed over. His skin pale. The sweat running down his face. Mitchell couldn’t hear him. He was trapped in a flashback.  _ Not now, rookie!  _

Mitchell reached down. His hands stopped halfway. Trembling uncontrollably, the tourniquet almost falling from his hands. Gideon ripped him away by his shoulder. The jaw of the creature snapping shut. Inches from Mitchell’s hands. Joker squeezed the trigger hard enough to choke a man. Launching more bullets than necessary into the zombie. The recoil rocked through him. His muscles stinging. He fired and fired. Until black ooze covered the ground and the twitching stopped. His throat tight and his breathing ragged. Joker started to wheeze. 

“The- fuck Mitchell! The- Can’t yo- see!” Joker stopped trying to yell. Backing away, Grayson put a hand on his back. Joker shooed him away and dug his hand into a deep pocket. It had been a long time since he last had an asthma attack on the battlefield. It was embarrassing, but the smoke, the stress; it was too much. He brought the blue Ventolin pump to his mouth and took a puff. He held his breath. Giving himself enough time to calm down.  _ This can’t be happening to us.  _

Joker put his head in his hands. He exhaled and opened his eyes again. He had seen Ilona do it so many times to ground herself. Usually, after he made a god awful pun or tripped over a rack of guns while acting out a story. It wasn’t all out of exasperation. Joker caught the small upward twitch of her lips that she tried to hide. Obviously, that meant he would do something stupid again. Anything to make her smile. Right now, as he opened his eyes, he looked at his Exo’s screen showing the red dots of Alpha squad. Knowing that Ilona was still breathing. Still working through this whole mess grounded him.  _ Let’s get out of this alive.  _

He turned back to the team. Gideon was facing Mitchell, saying something inaudible. The anger Joker had for the rookie dissipated. Having talked him back to reality a few times in training, he knew it wasn’t his fault. All the more reason to leave here as fast as they could. Feeling his breathing stabilizing; he walked back to the group. 

“... Breathe... Focus on my voice, we’re going to count-down together Private,” Gideon was staring into Mitchell’s eyes and still holding onto his shoulder. 

Quite tightly, noticed Joker. Gideon’s sturdy voice didn’t waver though. The strain was visible on Mitchell’s face but he managed to count along with Gideon. He returned to the present. Still staring intently, Gideon asked if he was okay. Mitchell slowly nodded his head. Gideon smiled softly. Dropping it just as quickly; Gideon turned his attention to Grayson and himself: 

“Is everyone okay?” 

“Yes sir,”said Grayson.

Joker wiped out two ‘okay signs’ but hoped the urgency in his voice would speak for itself.

“That fucking zombie smelled worse than the lunches I forgot in my locker in high school. I am _ not _ ready to deal with another one again,” he said through a forced smile.

“Did you just say zombie?” Gideon looked at him like he had lost his mind.

The same looks were plastered on Mitchell and Grayson’s faces. Joker waved his hands in the air.Then pointed at the grey body laying on the ground. 

“Yes dumbasses! How much more obvious can it get than that crawly pile of bad news there?” Joker cried in exasperation. Still trying to understand how every step in his life had led him here.  _ I wish this was a dream, but no one in a dream actually thinks that. _

While the wheels in his teammates’ heads spun, the second zombie made its appearance. Ten feet separated them. It growled deeply. The same black ooze dripped from its jaws. Hunger filled its gaze. But no soul hid behind its yellow eyes. It seemed unconcerned by its missing arm. It walked with a limp. Dragging its right foot across the ground behind him. The foot being held to its body only by a ligament. 

“Don’t move.” Ordered Gideon. Pistol pointed at the grey creature. 

The zombie lunged. Gideon fired. The bullet tore into its chest, knocking it back a couple of steps. The shot echoed over the courtyard. The team, frozen in place, watched it resume marching towards them. 

“Fuck me...” Murmured the Captain.

The zombie widened its mouth, the blackness splattering to the ground. A growl increasing in strength- Cut off by a clean shot to the head. Joker turned to see Mitchell, gun in hand. Fury in his eyes. The zombie crumbled to the ground. Brain matter mixing with the ooze. 

“Zombie. I agree.” he said flatly. 

Joker shook his head. “Glad you’re back, rookie,” he laughed.

The others remained silent. Mitchell started to monitor their surroundings. Avoiding any eye-contact. He pulled away from Gideon’s grip. Gideon let his arm drop to his side. Spreading his fingers as if his hand was burning. Grayson stood still, waiting for orders. Gideon tried again for the radios, but nothing. Anger was etched into his features. After a moment, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Then looked up at him.

“I hate to say it, but you’re right Joker.” 

In any other circumstance, Joker would have been filled with so much pride. Would have repeated the compliment for months straight. Would never let Gideon live it down. But right now, he hated himself for it. Gideon continued: 

“I don’t have a bloody clue how, but there’s a zombie outbreak in this prison.”

“Boss, I...” But even he was at a loss for words. 

Gideon didn’t pause: 

“We have to fix our radios. We have to warn the rest of Atlas. And get back on the Warbird.” 

“Now you’re speaking my language!” Joker smiled. 

** _Beep._ **

** _Beep._ **

** _Beep._ **

The klaxons blared. The air turned heavy, suffocating; like a weight on his chest. Everyone raised their guns and grouped up back to back. Joker started to swear when a distorted voice on the intercoms rang out. 

**Initiate phase 2. Trial 1.**

He didn’t recognize the emotionless female voice. This mysterious observer that was toying with their lives. Maybe from the second they touched down. 

“Trial?” Shouted Joker into the air. “We’re not lab rats!”

“Who’s watching us?” wondered Mitchell. 

Gideon started in the direction of the central watchtower, signaling to the team to follow.  _ Good place to start. _ Agreed Joker. 

“If there’s people here,” Gideon growled menacingly. “They can fucking bet we are going to find them and make them answer for all this.”

The squad moved out in single file. Joker covering the back. He spotted the outlines of two walking corpses exiting the garage behind them. With practiced ease. He shot them down. Just as they approached the door of the watchtower. The door burst off its hinges. A shrieking zombie rushed out. This one looked stronger. Its grey body intact and muscular. Huffing loudly as it studied them. Black ooze spitting forth. It raised its arms to strike down Gideon. Without blinking, he placed the nozzle of his gun under its chin. Blew the whole head off in a single shot.

“Fuck out of here, mate.” 

Grayson shot a straggler that rounded the left side of the watchtower. The team held their breaths. Waiting for the next attack.

**Objectives cleared**

The voice announced to them. Joker relaxed, but he wasn’t amused.  _ Nice. Just like a videogame huh.  _

“It's just gonna get harder from here on out,” he laughed joylessly.

“Copy that, but we have to go in,” replied Gideon.

He hoped it would all be over soon. Joker looked down at the red dots once again. He knew Ilona would follow the plan and meet them in the center. Despite himself, he crossed his fingers.  _ Be safe. _

Gideon took the first steps into the tower. Scanning for another ambush. Joker reloaded while he had the chance. It was his turn to go in now. The tightness in his throat returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...hey... guess who got over their writer's block :) It took me a while to realize I wanted to write from Joker's perspective. Also, I finally finished when I found out that you can't be a soldier when you're asthmatic hahAHA well I'm not changing it now. 
> 
> Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed. Stay inside and safe!


	7. Execute

Iron’s private residence 

Bangkok: 1425 hours

Jonathan Irons 

The wooden table splintered under the weight of his fist. Irons bombarded his desk with punches. Cried insults into the air. His aid backed away into a corner of the room. Praying that she would be spared from her boss’ ire. The calm and collected man she took orders from was gone. She tightened her grip on her Atlas tablet and raised it defensively to her chest.

“No one was to know of this!” Yelled Irons. “How did they get there?” 

Live footage streamed from his computer monitors. Showing Gideon, Mitchell, and the rest of Bravo team searching through Khan’s office. An office that was never constructed for real work. Only the perfect theatre for his lab rats. It was where Irons had surpassed humanity and became akin to a God. Everything was supposed to be under his control. Just the way he liked it. 

He slumped back into his chair. He knew that his unseemly outbursts of anger weren’t useful under these circumstances. He rocked back to look at the ceiling. Irons’ day had turned from bad to worse. But he would correct it. 

“We can’t risk our secrets getting out yet.” The voice of Dr. Pierre Danois spoke through the monitor. The voice normally grated Irons’ ears, but the doctor was his most important asset to achieving his dreams. “Our plans have already been compromised.” 

“That is my best team...” Irons paused. Then, rose from his chair. Standing at his desk, he stared darkly at his screen. Like a predator eyeing its prey. 

“But they won’t stand in my way,” he declared. “They won’t stand in the way of  _ my _ empire.” 

He hit a few buttons. Then the tablet in his aid’s arms rang out loud. She peered down and opened the new file. Protocols for the second phase of the operation. Her eyes widened in surprise. She almost let out a gasp, but Irons was watching. Quickly stopping herself before her stony professional air cracked under Irons scrutiny. She caught the flicker of madness behind his glare. The hunger there made her skin crawl. She bowed quickly and scrambled back to her post, fitting her headset on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irons carrying out experiments on humans? Its more likely than you think!


End file.
